


The Guardian

by SoftObsidian74



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Gift Fic, M/M, Songfic, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1519112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftObsidian74/pseuds/SoftObsidian74
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love shows itself in many ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Guardian

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emilywaters1976](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilywaters1976/gifts).



> I wrote this for Emily back in 2008. She requested a Snarry songfic using Neil Finn's "Fall at Your Feet". Some of the lyrics are embedded in the narrative. The full song is included in the endnotes.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters/references are property of JK Rowling and associates. No copyright infringement is intended.

  
_Words don’t sound right_   
_But I hear them all moving inside you, go_   
_I’ll be waiting when you call_   


He called himself a guardian. Though he would never say that out loud, not even to reassure himself in the still of the night, when he would awake with fresh fear.

He counted that as his duty. The anxiety, the fear, the maddening need to know everything about His whereabouts. Even when Harry would wander and put himself in harm’s way, he could never stay mad at Him for making him worry. 

Worry suited his purpose; he was His guardian. 

Harry didn’t know that, he couldn’t, and he hadn’t planned on ever telling Him. He was content in knowing that He was safe. 

He never felt slighted. He didn’t need appreciation, gratitude, or glory for watching over Him. It was his penance, but more than that, it was love. 

If Harry ever found out, if He ever sensed how much he loved Him, how much he worried, how far he would go to guard Him from harm, it could destroy the very thing he was striving to protect…and that would be his undoing.

Sometimes he wondered if whether he really could protect Him, hiding in the shadows under the guise of hate. As a spy he couldn’t always be there. 

And when he wasn’t there, his worry increased tenfold.

  
_You’re hiding from me now_   
_There’s something in the way that you’re talking_   


When he would return he would always check up on Him. In his own way.

He would reconnect with Him using snarls, scowls, and snarky remarks. Testing the boy’s resolve, His will to fight and carry on. 

Harry had to carry on. If He didn’t, then he would have failed. 

He was most at peace when Harry was in his classroom, under his watchful eye. Of course, to Harry, that eye was a menacing glare. But as long as Harry glared back at him, he was content. 

Sometimes he grew tired of the mask. But, he told himself that the façade of disdain, loathing, and disapproval was for the boy’s own good. He had to keep distance between them. He couldn’t know...that He was his.

His Harry.

  
_Hey and whenever I fall at your feet_   
_Wont you let your tears rain down on me_   
_Whenever I touch your slow turning pain_   


In his dreams, he didn’t have to hide behind the mask.

There were no barriers, no rules, no mandates from arrogant old wizards who thought they knew better than him, or self-absorbed sadists trying to rule the world. 

In dreams, he was free from them all, and his penance had been served. 

Harry had forgiven him, for all he had done, even those things he had never told Him he had done. He didn’t have to tell Him anything; in his dreams, the burden of confession had been lifted. 

He had been absolved and there was peace here. 

Harry finally knew everything, and that meant that everything no longer meant anything at all.

He could show weakness and admit imperfection without the threat of the taunts and jeers that had followed him throughout his teenage years. He had come to expect ridicule from others, it was all he had ever known. 

But not here; here they were a faint memory. 

In dreams, his Harry was forgiving, kind, and powerful. Powerful enough to absorb all of his pain and turn it against those who would hurt him...and them. 

Here he could touch Him, smell him, taste Him, in ways he wouldn’t dare consider in the waking hours when he had to wear the mask of contempt and apathy. 

His snarl was now a smile, blissful as he fell to his knees before the One who had given him purpose, a chance at redemption...a reason to love again.

The face of a childhood enemy adorned with the eyes of a woman whose love he could never grasp. He stared up into green eyes looking down into his own. 

He was free to love…and he felt loved, and it was real. And so, he had no second thoughts about kneeling before him. 

His salvation, his knight, his Harry.

  
_The finger of blame has turned upon itself_   
_And I’m more than willing to offer myself_   
_Do you want my presence or need my help_   
_Who knows where that might lead_   
_I fall_   


He had a decision to make, but it was really was no decision at all. Stay here and wait for the one who called himself the Dark Lord to move and give him an opportunity to fulfill his purpose or make it happen. If only he could find Harry...to warn Him.

There had to be another way. He couldn’t die. 

He didn’t care about his life, not in the least. But if he died, what would happen to Harry? Who would watch over Him? 

He stared at the cage that held her, thinking…there had to be a way to get to her before the fiend got to Harry. 

“Let me find Potter,” he heard himself asking the fiend, again and again. If only he could go back, and find Harry.

But then something went wrong, terribly wrong. He sensed it before it happened. He was no longer useful, and if he was useless to the fiend, he was useless to Harry. 

What kind of guardian was he? He couldn’t even save his own life. 

He had miscalculated, the old man had been wrong, and all would be lost. Harry would be lost and the world would follow. 

He welcomed the sharp pain at his neck. He deserved to die, and how fitting it was that he would die as a traitor. He had betrayed his purpose, the last person he had ever dared to love again. He had let Harry down.

And as quickly as he had resigned himself to die a traitor, He suddenly appeared. 

Was he already dead? Or was this another dream?

He looked up and breathed a ragged sigh of relief when he felt the robes of the illusion leaning over him. It was no illusion at all. It was real…He was real.

And he was at His feet, as it he should be. Finally.

He looked up at His face, and saw confusion, anger, and doubt, but he also saw resolve, strength, and a will to carry on. This boy, this man, He would carry on. 

He didn’t need a guardian anymore. 

And suddenly he wanted Him to know everything, he wanted Him to know the truth, just the way he had dreamed.

He grabbed at His robes and feet, pulling Him closer. 

“Take…it…Take…it…” he heard himself croaking, struggling to breath, drowning in his own blood as he released his memories, his thoughts, his everything.

Harry was looking around, bewildered, trying to catch the last of the memories pouring out of him in a flask. 

He could barely see, his vision was clouded, his heart felt faint, and he was aware that Death was waiting to claim him. He wouldn’t let it, not like this. He felt his grip weaken on His robes, and he summoned the last of his strength to speak.

“Look…at…me…” he whispered.

He willed himself to hold on just a few moments longer as he waited for Harry to look up and stare back at him with those eyes. 

He drank them in with his last dying breath with the hope that they would follow and guide him to whatever lay beyond this life.

Perhaps death was just like a never ending dream. If that were true, he’d easily let it claim him, so that he could look into His eyes forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Neil Finn's "Fall at Your Feet" lyrics:
> 
> _I’m really close tonight_   
>  _And I feel like I’m moving inside her_   
>  _Lying in the dark_   
>  _And I think that I’m beginning to know her_   
>  _Let it go_   
>  _I’ll be there when you call_
> 
> _And whenever I fall at your feet_  
>  _You let your tears rain down on me_  
>  _Whenever I touch your slow turning pain_  
> 
>  _You’re hiding from me now_  
>  _There’s something in the way that you’re talking_  
>  _Words don’t sound right_  
>  _But I hear them all moving inside you, go_  
>  _I’ll be waiting when you call_  
> 
>  _Hey and whenever I fall at your feet_  
>  _Wont you let your tears rain down on me_  
>  _Whenever I touch your slow turning pain_  
> 
> _The finger of blame has turned upon itself_   
>  _And I’m more than willing to offer myself_   
>  _Do you want my presence or need my help_   
>  _Who knows where that might lead_   
>  _I fall_


End file.
